


Pump Up the Volume

by jameee25



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, PWP without Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6322225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jameee25/pseuds/jameee25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's easier being loud than keeping quiet</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pump Up the Volume

**Author's Note:**

> An answer for the tumblr promt “wincest, have to keep quiet during sex”.
> 
> It’s not exactly how it turned out though, but still:
> 
> Oh, and it comes with a mini playlist, to get the full effect:
> 
> In Bloom- Nirvana
> 
> Sabotage- The Beastie Boys
> 
> Unbetad, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Tell me what you think?

 

They just got back from five horrendous days in Louisiana, helping their dad take down a goddamned Rougarou, a hunt which left them bloody and exhausted and made Sam’s skin crawl. They had zero alone time, not even enough for a quick hand job, and Sam felt like the world’s most insensitive jerk when he patched up his brother’s back and popped a huge boner that Just.Woulden’t.Go.Away.  

Dean saw it, of course he did, and he only chuckled and lifted a brow.  
“When we get home Sammy, the things I’m gonna do to you…” He licked his lips, and Sam only blushed.  
“Shut up, you idiot, let me finish this.”

Four minutes later John got back from his dinner run, which was very effective in calming down Sam’s raging erection. It was a good thing, because Sam thought that despite Dean’s Big Talk, and Sam treacherous hormones, neither of them was in any shape to get it on right then and there.

It’s different now though. They are back in the shitty trailer park to which they currently call home, and John just left to meet Bill Harvelle, three states away. They have time. 

 

It is hot, and humid, and it’s not even midday yet. There is only one window in the room, and it’s broken. Dean did his best to cover it up with an old T-shirt, to block out the merciless sun in the morning, but it still won’t cover the noises coming from a group of kids playing soccer just outside the trailer.  Sam can hear the ball hit the shabby wall on the outside, but at his current state there is no way he is going out to have one at them.

Nirvana’s _In Bloom_ is playing on the beaten-down radio transistor, which is sitting on the nightstand. Its antenna is broken, and it can only receive one station, which tends to play ‘90s music, much to Dean’s dismay. Sam Doesn’t mind though.

He is being pounded through the mattress by his big brother, who has one hand at Sam’s hip and the other half covering his mouth.   
“Shhh Sammy, gotta be quiet baby, ” and then he slams through him again, and grunts, loudly. Sam wants to laugh at that, because, really, Sam might be a little sound-enthusiast during sex, but it’s Dean who can’t seem to keep his mouth shut while they’re at it. 

“Yeah baby, missed you, missed this, so fucking hot Sam,” spilling right into Sam’s mouth as their thongs take a break from their mutual attack. Sam is in no condition to lecture his brother about his double standards, so he just arches back, letting his brother in deeper, and reaches out to tweak his own nipple.   
“Ohhh, just like this, do it baby,” moans Dean from above him, and Sam thinks he can hear the kids outside go quiet.   
“Fuck,” he mutters, and reaches out to amp up the volume. It’s no longer Nirvana, but Sam has no time to contemplate on that because apparently, Dean just found his prostate, and he is hitting it so sweetly that Sam just moans.   
“God, Dean…”  
“Shhhh Sam, quiet sweetheart, shhhh…Don’t want the kids to hear you,” but by the tone of his voice Sam can tell that it does something to him.

Sam closes his eyes, can feel his orgasm built. He can hear the Beastie Boys in the background, and feel his brother’s tongue lick in his ear. It’s so hot, and Dean is sweating bullets, big fat drops that fall over Sam’s face, and this is so them, so filthy-hot-wrong, and Sam can’t get enough.  He moans again, and Dean’s thrusts become erratic now. He uses both his hands to open up Sam’s ass cheeks, so he can shove in harder, deeper, and Sam can feel Dean’s gaze dropping low, looking at the way they are connected. Seeing himself drive impossibly deep into Sam.

Sam’s hand goes back to the radio, and he turns the volume to max.

“Uhhhh, Dean,”

_So listen up 'cause you can’t say nothin’_

“C'mon, C'mon Sammy, almost there,” Dean’s doing his best attempt at whispering. It’s not working.

_You’ll shut me down with a push of your button?_

“Yes!” Sam has already given up.

_But yo I’m out and I’m gone  
I’ll tell you now I keep it on and on_

“Yeah baby, do good, so good for me,”

_'Cause what you see you might not get  
And we can bet so don’t you get souped yet_

The music blends in with Sam’s pleasure, and if he wasn’t so far off he would make fun at the fact that they’re going at it like the world is gonna end to the sound of _Sabotage_.

“Do it, do it, gonna come,”

Ad rock is screaming in the background, and Sam’s spine feels like it is about to be split with how far he arches his back

“That’s it sweetheart, that’s it, I’m with you”

_Why; our backs are now against the wall_   
_Listen all of y'all it’s a sabotage_

Sam comes with an honest-to-god shout. The music is still loud enough so they can’t be heard, blood is ringing is his ears, and he can feel his brother emptying inside him, biting Sam’s shoulder so hard he’s drawing blood.

They are both breathing heavy now, coming down of their high. Sam has black spots blurring his vision, and Dean feels like a dead weight on top of him. He wonders if he’ll be able to move in the next few hours.


End file.
